


make it like your birthday everyday

by CapnWinghead



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Birthday, Established Relationship, Fluff, Ice Skating, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:41:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25271836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CapnWinghead/pseuds/CapnWinghead
Summary: Sam tries really hard to make Bucky's birthday a special day.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson
Comments: 18
Kudos: 71





	make it like your birthday everyday

**Author's Note:**

> I realized I never posted this short fic I wrote for Bucky's birthday a while back. Originally posted on tumblr. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Bucky awoke to a light sensation.

Soft and sweet, chaste kisses almost too faint to mention. He turned his face towards the gentle warmth, fighting a smile when a line of kisses rained down his cheek, his hair brushed away as they fell down his throat and to his bare shoulder. The comforter slipped lower, a soft scratch against his skin that would probably leave a mark. No matter, Bucky liked feeling them throughout the day when his shirt sleeves brushed over them. It was a reminder.

“I had about thirty more seconds of sleep, you know?” Bucky grumbled, his eyes shut.

A hand shook his shoulder lightly as Sam placed another kiss on his shoulder. “You actually have all day.” The bed shifted as Sam sat up, his voice warm and cheerful. It was part of the reason Bucky could never get too annoyed with him. “It’s your day, man. We can do whatever you want.”

Bucky gave up feigning sleep, rolling onto his back into the warm space Sam had left behind. He opened one eye curiously, staring up at Sam as he smiled down at him. Well rested, Sam was a sight to behold. Well rested and happy was another thing entirely. It left Bucky tongue tied and nervous, his face warming. A strange fluttering filled his stomach, his chest expanding with a feeling he was damn sure never going to name. 

Sam stayed quiet for as long as he could stand before he reached out and shook Bucky’s shoulder again, a big smile on his face. “Come on! What do you want to do, babe? Go for a run? Go to the park? Get something to eat?”

Bucky stared at him, frowning. “Anything on your list that a Labrador retriever wouldn’t do?”

Biting down a laugh, Sam leaned over, resting his chin on his hands as he settled on Bucky’s chest. seven months of this and Bucky still got nervous when Sam got this close to him. “You realize those are all things you like to do, right?”

“Yeah, but, aren’t I supposed to do something bigger for my birthday?” he asked.

Sam’s brow rose. “If you want. If you want to stay in bed all day and watch Real Housewives, we can do that, too.”

Bucky shook his head, the corner of his mouth turning up. “When have I ever done that?”

“I came home early one day when you were resting up after that stupid stunt in Arizona left you with a broken ankle—”

Eyes widening, Bucky started to sit up. “That was _one time_!”

“One time is all it takes!” Sam began, laughing as Bucky took hold of his wrists. Sam shifted back, his bare chest coming into view as he rose up on his knees. “You watch _four hours_ of Jersey girls arguing about nonsense, I’m allowed to call you a fan!”

“I’m not!” Bucky insisted, pulling Sam in closer as he squirmed, his legs tangled in the sheets. “I couldn’t reach the remote!”

“Uh huh, sure,” Sam said, accepting the kiss Bucky laid on his cheek. He leaned in, smiling as their lips met. He moved forward, spreading his legs to settle in Bucky’s lap. “Seriously, whatever you want to do.” His eyes were clear and honest.

And honestly, Bucky can’t really remember the last time he had choices. At least, not before Sam.

Reaching up, he cupped Sam’s cheek and closed his eyes, pressing a kiss to Sam’s brow. “C’mon,” he replied softly, climbing out of bed.

* * *

“It’s your birthday, Buck,” Sam said, his cheek in hand.

He sat at the bar, watching Bucky with an adorable pout on his face. Bucky had turned around shortly after seeing it, he had to focus on the stove. “And I want pancakes,” he said matter of factly.

“Yeah, I’ve heard of them. I can make you pancakes.”

“I want good pancakes,” Bucky clarified, laughing at the washcloth that hit him in the back of the head. He moved smoothly to the side as its friend quickly followed. Sam was a whiz in the kitchen; he knew how to bake just about anything, he made his own pasta and he knew how to make pizza from scratch. For some reason, he’d never been able to make a decent batch of flapjacks. “I’m not trying to hurt your feelings, but even you have to admit your pancakes come out a little darker than most.”

“Some of them are just a little well done.” Bucky shot him a skeptical look as he transferred two pancakes to a plate. Sam frowned at him. “I thought I won you over with my pancakes?”

The corner of Bucky’s mouth turned up and he rested his hand on his hip, leaning across the counter. “It wasn’t the pancakes.” He dropped a kiss on Sam’s lips and returned to the stove, ladling out more batter.

“But you agreed to go out with me after I made you pancakes.”

“No, I agreed to go out with you after you tried to make me pancakes.”

Sam had tried so hard; to be stealthy and quiet that morning and have them ready when Bucky usually woke up at the ass crack of dawn. The smoke detector had gone off and Bucky had leapt out of bed sure Hydra or AIM had decided to set their house on fire. Instead, he’d found Sam running around in circles trying to get rid of the smoke filling the kitchen. Bucky had nearly launched a fire rescue before he realized Sam was trying to save _something_ on the stove.

In the end, as sappy as it sounded, it was the thought that counted. He’d been flat out shocked that anyone would go to the trouble to do something nice for him. Let alone Sam who’d already done so much from letting him stay there after being given more than enough reason not to trust Bucky at all. Sam who hadn’t bat an eye at making Bucky his partner and tying his future to him. Sam who’d never once looked at him and saw the guy he used to be before Hydra sank its fangs into him.

He hadn’t thought twice about agreeing to go out with Sam. To this day, he was still shocked Sam had wanted to date him in the first place.

He set the platter of pancakes down in front of Sam and sat down next to him, loading up two plates. Sam watched, a thoughtful look on his face. Bucky handed him the syrup and then a fork, frowning when a slow smile spread across Sam’s face.

“What?”

Sam shook his head, returning to his plate. “Nothing, man. Let’s eat.”

* * *

Sam’s grip on his hands tightened almost painfully as Bucky tried (and failed) to keep from laughing at him.

“I hate you so much sometimes,” Sam muttered, brow furrowed as Bucky smoothly slid backwards, keeping them moving and upright. “You only picked this because you know I’m bad at it.”

His left foot slipped and his eyes went wide, a death grip on Bucky’s hands. Biting down on his lip, Bucky smoothly slid forward on his skates, pulling Sam into his arms. “No, that’s not why I chose this.”

Sam glared at him, his hands moving to Bucky’s inner arms as Bucky held him still. They’d gone ice skating once, and only once before, when Cassie Lang had invited the team to her birthday party and Sam hadn’t had the heart to turn her down. He’d only scrapped by without serious injury because Bucky had taken pity on him and laced up to help him.

It had been several months before they started dating. Back when Bucky had resigned himself to working alongside a man he could never be with the way he truly wanted. Back when the highlight of his days was getting Sam, bundled in layers, wrapped in his arms and holding on for dear life. He still remembered when Sam had sent them careening into the nearby barrier and Bucky just barely managed to stop them from going over, earning a grateful smile and a laugh that left him dumbstruck and speechless, his heart beating impossibly fast in his chest.

Nearly a year later and Sam still had that effect on him.

Bucky managed to separate them a little bit, missing Sam’s heat instantly. He moved backwards, pulling Sam along with him. Sam kept his eyes on his feet, focused, the way he did everything else. It was rare he caught Sam at something he wasn’t great at – but that was the thing about Sam, if he didn’t know, he asked. He never made Bucky feel stupid for not knowing something and he never seemed embarrassed when he learned something new. Sam just was – he never put on airs that he knew everything.

After a few minutes went by with no injury, Sam’s head popped up, a wide grin on his face. “I think I’m doing it!”

“Great,” Bucky said teasingly, pushing back further. “I can let go now?”

“Don’t even think about it!”

They’d barely separated when Sam veered forward, snatching his hands. Laughing, Bucky pulled him in, a puff of air escaping as Sam rolled into his arms. He stole a kiss, feeling Sam’s pout give way to a smile, his arms circling Bucky’s waist. Bucky reached up to touch Sam’s cheek, pressing their lips together.

Sam hummed, deepening it. It was easy enough to lose themselves for a moment, taking this small little section of the rink for themselves. The winter air fresh and clean, Sam’s scent in his nose, his warmth spreading between them.

This was exactly what Bucky wanted.

* * *

“All of the city’s restaurants for you to choose from and you decided on burgers,” Sam said slowly stretching out across the couch. Their legs were tangled together in the center, an ungodly large blanket between them keeping them warm. “We could have at least eaten at Dolly’s.”

“Nah, this is good,” Bucky said, stretching out his leg, bracketing in Sam’s hip.

He’d often wondered if Sam had this couch before Bucky moved in. It was large enough for two grown men to stretch out on comfortably and even big enough for them to sleep on when they were having a lazy Sunday. It seemed much too big for Sam alone.

Sam shrugged, leaning back against the arm of the couch as he picked up the remote. There was a dash of sauce on the corner of his mouth, his head cocked to the side as he scrolled through the options on Hulu. He settled on something, setting the remote down as he picked up his burger once more. Bucky reached across, swiping his thumb over Sam’s mouth.

Sam’s eyes widened, softening as he understood. “Thanks, man,” he said with a smile returning to the television.

There was some sort of loud argument happening on screen between two brunettes at a restaurant and Bucky cursed. “Sam, seriously?”

“It’s your favorite show, I’m just trying to be nice,” Sam said, biting into his burger.

“Gimme the remote.”

“No, it’s your birthday, I’m willing to make the sacrifice. Besides, Dina and Teresa look like they might actually get along by the end of this one.”

Bucky stretched out, moving into Sam’s space and reaching beneath the blankets. Their legs got hopelessly tangled and he landed on Sam with a loud huff as he knocked the air out of them. His fingers closed around the remote and he switched it over to something tolerable.

Sam shifted around until he was pressed against the back of the couch and Bucky settled with his back to Sam’s chest. “Westworld?” Sam asked, biting into his burger.

“You seen it?”

“Not yet.” He carded his fingers through Bucky’s hair, tugging lightly until Bucky rested more comfortably in his arms.

After three episodes, Sam had fallen asleep. It was late, well past twelve and Bucky’s birthday was officially over. Snoring softly in his ears, Sam had wrapped his arms around Bucky like some sort of oversized teddy bear. Bucky took up his hand, kissing his palm.

When they slept together, Sam tended to stretch out, ensuring that some part of him was touching Bucky at all times. Upon realization, Bucky had felt strangely overwhelmed. This whole thing was clearly a fluke, right? But if he let Sam get used to this, to having him around, what would happen when it ended? Bucky kept trying to picture Sam trying, and failing, to fall asleep without him.

He’d just turned off the television when Sam shifted, turning his cheek into the pillow behind his head. “What’s going on?”

Smiling, Bucky pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Time for bed.”

Sam shook his head, rubbing at his eyes. “No, no, I’m awake. I’m good.”

“Relax, it’s late. It’s not my birthday anymore.” Climbing to his feet, he leaned over and kissed Sam’s forehead as he bundled the blanket in his arms.

Sam let Bucky pull him up, moving sluggishly through the halls, his shirt riding up over his hip. Never more adorable than when he was sleepwarm and tired enough that he just followed Bucky’s lead. Bucky moved through the house, turning out the lights and checking the locks. Steering Sam towards the bed, he barely pulled back the covers before Sam tugged him down on top of him.

Breath evening out, he caught Bucky’s hand before he could turn out the bedside light. “Did you have a good birthday?”

He stared up at Bucky curiously, chewing on his lip. Bucky’s thumb swiped over it, releasing it gently from his teeth. He kissed him, running his tongue over the indent. His thumb smoothed over Sam’s cheek, warming as he smiled into the kiss.

He remembered one night, several months ago, when he’d first moved in. It had been a Saturday night and, while Bucky clearly didn’t have any plans, he was surprised to find Sam didn’t either. He sank down on the couch next to Bucky with a huff and flipped through the channels. He’d found something to watch, Bucky didn’t quite remember what. Some sitcom that had over a hundred episodes and, by god, they watched every one of them over time. Bucky didn’t remember that night fondly because of the cheesy laugh track.

He remembered that night because it was the first night Sam had fallen asleep beside him. Well past two in the morning, the couch covered in half empty chip bags and empty soda bottles. An empty tub of Ben and Jerry’s The Tonight Dough ice cream melting on the coffee table. Bucky was half asleep when he heard snoring and looked over to find Sam bundled up beneath the blanket, fast asleep without a care in the world.

Beside a guy that had nearly killed him twice, that had killed several people over decades. A guy that was healing, but not quite healed, from what he’d endured. A guy that still didn’t trust himself to be around people; certainly not anyone that didn’t have their guard up at all times. Not anyone that had zero qualms about falling asleep on a couch beside him.

Bucky remembered that night as the first time he’d realized just how much Sam trusted him – and just how much he’d _wanted_ to earn that trust. Over time, he began to realize just how far that trust went. When Sam insisted Bucky go with him to a children’s birthday party, when he took Bucky to meet his family, when he brought Bucky with him to visit Riley’s grave. When he shared things with Bucky that he’d shared with his friends; when he shared things with Bucky that he’d never shared with anyone else. When he tried his best to make a decent batch of pancakes and nearly set fire to the kitchen. When he proved, time and time again, how much he cared about the messed up, socially awkward, ex-assassin he’d invited into his home.

So much so that he’d spent an entire day trying his best to make Bucky’s birthday special.

Swallowing thickly, Bucky nodded, hovering over him. Sam carded his fingers through his hair, smiling up at him. “I did good?”

Bucky kissed him, reaching over to turn out the light. He pulled Sam into his arms, kissing his shoulder and the nape of his neck. “Yeah, Sam. You did real good.


End file.
